Chapter 29 #2
Or at least the original reason.
When Ari invited me yesterday, she’d said, “My mom needs to see you being normal.”
Which felt unfair. Because I am normal. Mostly.
The goal tonight was simple: convince Barb Langford that I am not the human equivalent of a poor life choice for her daughter. A difficult assignment, considering she’s disliked me since high school.
I glance toward the kitchen window. As if summoned by my thoughts, Barb is standing there, watching. But the moment I look her way, she disappears. She’s avoiding me, which makes it pretty difficult to get on her good side.
“I think that’s enough logs,” Dusty says, taking the axe from my hands. “Why don’t you two go get some cider and make a s’more?”
Jaxon and I walk to the table just as Landrie and Ari head toward the fire with their marshmallows on roasting sticks.
“If you don’t get to work soon, Stevenson”—she smirks as she passes me—“you’ll leave here tonight even further behind in the bet than when you came.”
Something about that makes me frown, but it has nothing to do with the bet.
Jaxon waits until they’re gone to slap me on the back. “You okay, buddy?”
“I kissed Ari,” I blurt without any coercion.
His expression doesn’t change. “I know. I saw you kiss in the kitchen, remember?”
“That was different.” My head bobs back and forth. “Kind of. But also kind of similar to the kiss last night.”
“Well, kissing is to be expected when you’re dating someone.” He shoots me a pointed stare. “Unless you’re not really dating.”
I can read him like an open book. “How did you know?”
“That it was all fake? It was easy to tell.”
“How?”
“Mayor’s birthday party. Nobody acts like that for real.”
“We were pretty obnoxious.”
“The worst.” Jaxon laughs.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I don’t want to know all of your weird details about wanting a fake relationship.” Then Jaxon adds quietly, “But I will say, just because the relationship started out fake doesn’t mean you two aren’t perfect for each other.”
I scrub a hand over my face.
“See?” Jaxon points. “That’s the face.”
“What face?”
“The face that says you’re in trouble.”
“I’m not in trouble. I’m just…” I don’t finish because I don’t know what I am.
“You’re just what?”
I glance over my shoulder, making sure we’re still alone.
“Yes, it started out fake. Like a game. But now I can’t stop thinking about her.
I’m not sleeping at night because I’m thinking about every conversation we had during the day.
I look for her everywhere. When something happens, good or bad, she’s the first person I want to tell.
I’m excited to hang out with her. I never get sick of being with her, and I have more fun with her than any other woman I’ve ever been with. ”
Jaxon grimaces. “Well.”
“Well, what?”
“You're falling for her.”
I laugh. Hard. Because that’s absurd. “I don’t fall for women.”
“Apparently, you do.” Jaxon lifts his cider like he’s toasting me. “Welcome to the club of being head over heels for a Langford woman.”
I shake my head as my eyes drift toward Ari. She’s showing her dad the perfect sear of a marshmallow.
Falling for her? Pfft.
“So the real question is”—Jaxon’s brows lift—“if you’re falling for her, what are you going to do about it?”
“Nothing,” I scoff. “Because I’m not falling for her.”
I shake my head as I walk away because Jaxon just said the most ridiculous thing.
I can’t be falling for Ari.
I’m the one who said this would all be fake.
Ari
BY THE TIME Wade wanders back toward the fire pit, everybody has settled into their chairs. Mom sits beside Dad. Landrie and Jaxon share a blanket across from them. The empty camp chair beside me creaks as Wade lowers himself into it.
Immediately, he looks at me, leaning close like he wants to say something but can’t think of what.
I smile.
He smiles back.
Then his eyes drop, and he pulls away, sitting back into his own chair.
Huh.
That was weird for Wade. It was almost like he was nervous.
Conversation swirls across the crackling flames as everybody relaxes. The smell of wood smoke hangs in the air while sparks float upward toward the dark Vermont sky. Around us, leaves rustle through the trees.
It’s pretty magical.
“Cold?” Wade asks.
“Kind of.”
“You’re shivering.”
Before I can argue, he stands and disappears toward the pile of blankets Mom dragged outside. He comes back with one and drapes it over my legs.
I blink up at him. “Thank you?”
“Is that a question?” He smiles as he sits back down.
I shake my head, glancing back to the fire.
Weird.
A few minutes later, I reach toward the stone ring around the fire where our mugs of hot cider sit. Wade reaches faster, grabbing mine first and handing it to me.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks.”
Weird again.
Not bad weird.
Just different. Like Mayor-Monroe’s-birthday-party weird.
The kind of attentive behavior that feels slightly exaggerated, as if he’s putting on a show. Only, this time, the show isn’t for the town. It’s for my mother.
And I guess that’s exactly what he should be doing.
He’s trying to win over my mom. It’s the purpose of the whole night.
Across the fire, Mom rotates her marshmallow. The thing immediately bursts into flames.
“Darn it.” She pulls the stick back and stares at the charred marshmallow. “I hate the burned ones.
Without hesitation, Wade reaches across the fire and holds out his own perfectly golden-brown one. “You can have mine. I’ll trade you. I don’t mind a crispy one.”
Mom hesitates but eventually takes it. “Thank you.”
“I’m not doing this to get you to like me.”
Dad bursts out laughing. Even my mom’s lips twitch.
“It wouldn’t work anyway,” Landrie says.
“Good,” Wade says. “Because I’d hate for a marshmallow to be the thing that finally wins Barb over. I want it to be my charming personality.” His eyes move to me with no hint of joking behind them. “Or how highly I think of her daughter.”
I stare back at him, desperately trying to figure out if it’s just a line or something he actually means.
“Now that’s what would really work,” my mom says, pulling my attention toward her. “All I care about is Ari’s happiness.”
And everything’s suddenly confirmed.
The blanket.
The cider.
The marshmallow.
The line about thinking highly of me.
The whole night has been about the bet and getting my mom to like him.
I catch Wade’s eye in the glow of the fire. His mouth tips into a small smile.
For a second, I smile back. Then something about the look behind his gaze makes my stomach somersault. Because when he looks at me like that, it doesn’t feel like a man checking to see if his performance is working. It looks like a man doing it for me because he wants to.